Selling Yourself Short
by glitterscarves
Summary: Neville quickly realises the aftermath of the war has not been kind to Draco. He fails at taking advantage at the man's situation, maybe he can save him? NL/DM Rated M for a reason
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own HP or any of the associated settings and characters as you can tell by the serious lack of Snarry action.**_

_**This is rated M for a reason but I don't believe there is anything too traumatising.**_

_**Hope you enjoy as always.**_

* * *

He wrapped his thin arms around his waist and attempted to subside the shaking, it looked unhealthy and no one wanted an unhealthy man.

His lips had been lacerated by the incessant chapping of his teeth and he had grey cloud of bruises darkening his cheeks but no one really seemed to mind his damaged face. They never wanted to really look at him. His pale, glowing face a stark reminder that this body had a face, a family and a brain…he would remember when you were cuddled up with the familiar smooth body of your wife…

Draco realised he deserved many things for his crimes but he often wondered if what he did was so bad, especially when worse men were granted the lease of death.

Not that he had not tried to end it but he could never make that final blow…His natural survival instinct would never betray him and his conscience would mutter…you've come this far…

The man who approached him was round and waddled, his red skin shone in the sparse light from the street lamps.

"How much?" he grunted, his eyes avoiding Draco's frantically.

"What would you like?"

"Fuck," the man replied, his face darkening further. He had never had sex with a man before Draco thought.

"£30."

The man smiled and drew the notes from his wallet, holding them as he surveyed Draco's dress. He wore faded and tore jeans that were held up with a splitting leather belt. On top he had on three t-shirts, a jumper and a thin waterproof jacket. No man ever really wanted him anywhere besides the alley and undressing, besides slipping down his trousers, was never necessary.

It didn't take long.

Afterwards the man shoved the rumpled notes into Draco's waiting fist and waddled furiously away, embarrassed by the blond who shuffled from the mouth of the alley behind him.

In winter there were less men, an advantage in some aspects but he never managed to eat as well, surviving on greasy bags of chips, mushy fruit and semen.

* * *

The rain began.

It was soft to begin with, a gentle patter on the concrete but it began to hail down, drenching Draco and causing his already shivering body to rack with the motions.

Then his face, in the streams of water.

Familiar, a face from a dream you could only hazily remember.

He recognised Draco instantly.

"Malfoy?" the man questioned, up right in his black suit and over coat, holding a large black umbrella over himself.

"What?" Draco tried to deny it.

"What the hell are you doing here in this weather? Shouldn't you go home?"

"Home?" he snorted. "You burned it."

The man flinched.

"I didn't personally."

"No but I imagine you were among the ones cheering when they did."

"What are you doing?" the man asked, ignoring his snide remarks.

"Making money while making use of my talents."

The realisation settling over the crumpled features of the face annoyed Draco and he felt humiliated. He really should not have even hinted at his current occupation, he should have ran when the man mentioned the hideous formation of sounds that was his name.

" Are things that bad?"

Opting to ignore the stupid question, Draco closed his eyes, savouring the routine tap of the water on his head while blocking the coldness from his body. He hoped when he opened them the man would be gone.

Suddenly the water stopped and two hands were on his sides, the touch distant, as his skin was growing numb with the cold seeping into his skin.

Warmth hit him like a bullet and his skin tingled.

The man smiled at Draco as though he were a disturbed child and pushed him to sit on a white couch.

"Don't, I'll soak it," Draco snapped.

"I have my wand remember," the man said easily.

"Lucky you, must have been grate being Potty's bitch."

"Harry saved the world and made sure we had a future Malfoy!"

"And that's why it hurts when I sit then? Remind me to thank Potty if I ever see his scarred face again," snapped Draco.

"I'm sorry Malfoy."

Leaning back into the alien comfort of the sofa, Draco let his eyes draw closed and focused on the erratic background noise.

"How do you take your tea?"

"No milk and two sugars," he replied naturally.

The face handed him a mug, the cool smoothness of it contrasting with the polystyrene cups he was used to drinking tea from now.

"Do you remember me?"

"I know you went to Hogwarts."

"Neville Longbottom."

Draco spluttered.

"You can't be, you're much too together."

"By that logic you could not possibly be Draco Malfoy, you are far too broken."

"I lost my dignity and self-respect when I watched my home burn and my parents executed…I am not Draco Malfoy. I am nothing he was."

"What do they call you then?"

"Blane…"

Longbottom sank into the plush material of the high-backed chair he sat in with a small smirk decorating his face.

"Suits you."

Draco snorted.

Neville just continued to smile, stirring his tea absent minded with a teaspoon but never touching any to his lips.

Draco began to wonder if Longbottom had poisoned him but found he did not really care and gulped down the scorching liquid.

"Are you hungry?"

"I dunno, I cannot remember what being hungry feels like."

"I'll make you something, have a shower."

"Defeats the purpose when I have to put these back on."

"I'll give you something in the morning and I'll give you pyjamas from now."

"Pyjamas?"

"Yes, you are sleeping here tonight."

"You should have said Longbottom, you could have fucked me in that alley for £30," smiled Draco.

"I didn't want to get wet," Neville said simply, rising from the chair and sweeping into the kitchen.

Deciding against disturbing his gracious host, Draco wandered into the hall and opened the first suspect door, pleased with himself when he realised his brilliant deduction skills left from spying had not left him, and the room was the bathroom.

Wriggling from the confines of his dirty, worn clothing Draco observed himself in the long mirror. He was far too thin and his back was littered with bruises and scars, his legs were mere sticks covered with wiry blond hair and his ribs were barely covered by his white, stretched skin. Draco sighed, trying to remember a time when he looked in the mirror and liked what he saw…

After allowing himself some time to mourn the joyful times of his youth, Draco brushed the trails of tears from his cheek and stood under the constant beat of the shower.

The water was deliciously hot and coloured his skin violent red, then he reached from the dark purple bar of soap, moaning audibly as the suds murdered the dirt trapped in his skin and gave him some of his sanity back, suddenly he could almost call himself Draco.

The feeling was gone the instant he stepped from the jet of water and tears caught him unaware.

On the outside he was clean but the true filth lay buried under his skin, somewhere he could never cleanse. Never could he use the name Draco Lucius Malfoy without shame, his father's angry face and his mother's pained face dancing mockingly before him as flashbacks from his many times in the alley flooded him.

Roughly he pulled his hand across his face to erase the tears and avoided the mirror as he pulled on the red trousers Longbottom had left him. He had left no top so Draco wrapped himself in the damp towel, adamant to keep a miniscule amount of his dignity.

Longbottom looked pained when Draco sat back on the couch.

He placed a tray on the table in front of him with a sandwich on beautifully white bread sat on a plate, a red apple and a glass of pineapple juice on it.

Then Longbottom sat next to him and took Draco into his arms.

At first he was stilled by shock, unsure of what Longbottom desired until he realised and he pressed his chapped lips against the smooth, warm ones of the other man.

Longbottom kissed deliciously, affectionately and warmly, like he cared and the feeling made Draco ill. His stomach churned furiously as he felt himself by consumed by the promises Longbottom could never keep.

He pulled away suddenly, his eyes glittered with obvious anger.

"Fuck…I thought you wanted to but you think…Fuck…"

Draco just looked at the ground, realising there had to be an unpleasant conclusion to the luxury he had found himself surrounded by.

"I'm sorry…" Longbottom mumbled.

"Why?"

"I should not have taken advantage…"

"It's why I am here isn't it?"

"I dunno why I brought you here really…"

"Me neither…"

"Why do you still have that towel on?"

"You didn't leave a t-shirt."

"Oh sorry, I'll get you one, you eat yeah?"

Longbottom fled the room in a flourish, blatantly pleased to escape Draco.

With a sigh he brought the bread to his mouth, savouring the rush of flavours as food felt so different away from that world…the world he could escape whilst surrounded by Longbottom's stiff furniture and his warmth.

When he came back he wore similar pyjamas to Draco and a horrifically clashing green top, Draco kept confined all jokes about him resembling a crudely decorated Christmas tree and thanked him gently for the food and clothes.

Longbottom turned his head and allowed Draco to change then stuffed the discarded towel into the washing machine robotically.

"I only have one bed," Longbottom announced suddenly.

"It's okay, I'll sleep on the couch or floor or something," said Draco, feeling suddenly out of place.

"No, you have the bed."

"We could share it?"

"If…I won't try and have sex with you…just sleep."

"Okay," said Draco simply.

Obediently, like a dog, Draco followed Longbottom into his bedroom, watching as he threw the decorative cushions into a corner and pulled back the coverlet. Finally, he slid under the uncovered duvet and smiled up at Draco. Robotically, he joined Longbottom in the odd comfort of the bed.

Under the blankets, Longbottom fumbled for Draco's hand and once found it, knotted his fingers with the blond's and squeezed softly. Unsurprisingly Draco found it hard to react as he was unsure what his bed partner wanted so he allowed the contact, waiting for Longbottom's next move but shortly after, his soft snores filled the room.

Draco lay staring at the white ceiling, wondering what kind of mess he had just skipped into.

* * *

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**_This will actually have more than one chapter, I figured splitting it up would make it easier to read. _**

**_Hppe you enjoyed it._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Same rules apply.**

**Thanks for anyone who favourited, put on your alert list, reviewed and read.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter too.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The morning was slightly awkward.

Longbottom had woken first and shook Draco into consciousness a short time after, greeting him with another tray; this time with toast, more fruit and more juice.

He ate the offering hurriedly and looked up at Longbottom.

Then he realised something he had cleverly managed to avoid.

Bruce was going to fucking kill him.

He stood up sharply, the tray falling to the dark wooden floors and the glass shattering into a million glittering pieces. Racing into the bathroom he tried to locate his clothing, finding the room spotless and every trace of his presence washed away.

Longbottom was expectedly embarrassed and Draco could not blame him, having a cheap prostitute clutter your home was hardly something to be proud of but he could not help feel a little let down. He had been good enough to kiss…

Shaking his head to erase the deceitful memories, he marched back into the bedroom.

"Where are my clothes Longbottom? I'm in shit if I do not get back soon."

"I'll give you something to wear, calm down."

But Draco couldn't.

Longbottom had no idea how it felt to be repeatedly beaten, broken down by the people he used to mock so freely. Their pathetic weapons, no match for a well-trained wizard like him, could destroy him, scar him, pain him…

And the money…

Bruce appeared unintelligent but even the slowest of the human species could come to the conclusion he had been with a client and the first rule of the house sparked in his mind: No free sex.

"Try these, they might be a little big but you're so tiny I doubt much would fit you."

Blinded by panic Draco pulled on the baggy, clean clothes hastily and managed to tangle his feet in the jeans, hitting the ground harshly with a sudden thump.

Two arms looped around him, pulling him up and Longbottom's mouth moved asking questions Draco could not decipher.

"Malfoy! Are you alright?!" he exclaimed. Draco was finally able to understand him.

"Yes…fuck I need to go Longbottom."

"Calm down, where do you need to go?"

"Back…and the fucking money. Why did you take me here? Why did I come?" he ranted.

"Money?"

"It's obvious you took me away for fun and when I come back empty-handed…I'm screwed…"

"How much?"

"£50," Draco lied, the guilt not forthcoming. He deserved a small amount of compensation from the legions of wizards who had let him down.

"I'll give it to you but…Malfoy…"

"What Longbottom?" Draco said, his fire back as the panic was doused.

"I could…You could stay here…"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I could…"

"What? Save me?" Draco laughed hollowly. "You are not Potty, leave the hero shit to him."

Once Draco was finally dressed, Longbottom took him back without another word, his face completely blank.

* * *

Three weeks passed before Draco ever set eyes on Longbottom again, this time he appeared more nervous but he tried to keep his stature confident.

"I need your services Malfoy," he said bluntly.

Draco laughed slightly, "Not sure I can say I was expecting that."

"Not here though, at mine."

"Lead the way, master."

Longbottom grabbed him roughly and pulled him flush against his body, the warmth radiating through his layers as they were pulled and twisted into the flat.

It was slightly tidier than last time, showing Longbottom had clearly planned this encounter and just as last time, he hurried into the kitchen, setting about making tea.

Draco had never been taken anywhere other than the alley for a client, others had and they told him it made the experience a little more bearable as very few of them saw comfort further than an old camp bed or rickety hotel bed. He did find it rather odd that they were willing to be fucked blindly into a mattress by a stranger if said mattress was comfortable but so few of the boys he knew had ever had an existence beyond the streets. It scared him how many had been doing this job since before they were legal…

He was given the same mug as last time and Longbottom made the tea to his exact specifications, Draco wondered if he could really do a better job himself.

They finished quickly and he could sense a hint of shaking as the darker haired man sat, staring oddly at Draco.

"Should we get to it then?" asked Draco, standing up.

"I guess," mumbled Longbottom reluctantly as though he were the one paid to be here.

In the bedroom, Longbottom continued to act awkward, his body language cold and his face blank.

"Do you actually want this?" questioned Draco.

"Yes! I just…dunno what the hell to do…"

"Your first time?" offered Draco in what he hoped was a compassionate tone.

Longbottom blushed brilliantly.

This admission made Draco feel odd, he had been in this situation before or at least suspected he had been but for reasons unknown it felt wrong with Longbottom.

But Longbottom acted suddenly, his lips finding Draco's impatiently, hungrily.

The kisses were delectable as before but they burned his flesh and caused him to desire more.

Longbottom was faultless in his enthusiasm, touching Draco's skin frantically as he tried to find something to anchor himself, anything to stop him falling…

Pulling away suddenly, Draco tore Neville's clothes from his body with strength unknown to his frail and faded form, leaving the brunette suddenly exposed.

He was shy by nature and he blushed, Draco's hazy gaze a reminder of what he had let himself in for.

Then more kisses and his sensitive skin brushed against the rough material of Draco's clothes he knew he had to rid this obstruction from their closeness and undressed his bed partner, fearlessly…delighted by the expanse of silver and white skin under his starving fingertips…

Draco pulled away and forced Neville onto his back and with a grin at him, kissed hurriedly down his chest and took him whole into his mouth.

Neville took a sharp inhale of breath, his lungs constricting as the blood soared through his veins, he was numb to everything but the wet heat and tangled his fingertips into the waves of Draco's hair…

But a devious, rebel idea slipped through the walls of pleasure…

Draco on his knees for anyone with money to share…anyone who wanted him…

He would do this for anyone, anyone who paid…and Neville was paying…

Draco didn't want him, he didn't want anyone. He was doing what he thought he had to in order to survive and Neville felt disgusting.

Throughout their time in Hogwarts, Neville had watched the Slytherin from a distance. In the beginning he was innocent to his complete fascination to the other's habits, the way his laugh caught in Neville's chest, the way his sneer was almost pretty and the grace with which he carried himself.

Once he realised his interest for what it was, Neville resigned himself to the reality he would never have the opportunity to touch that heavenly skin, kiss those beautiful lips…

But then he had caught sight of the blond through the rain…

Although the Draco he had seen that evening was different he was somehow the same, he was his conquest, the person who was so far out of his reach and now he could touch him…only for a small fee…

In his clouded mind it had felt like a good idea but now he repulsed himself with horror he had allowed himself to be swallowed by his own lust.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice husky.

"I can't…"

"It's alright, I'll help," he said gently, crawling next to Neville and trailing his hand into his lap.

Oh it would be so easy…

"Stop!" he shouted.

Draco pulled back his hand as though it had been burned and turned his face away.

Rejection.

Unexpected stung him, this was not what Draco expected but he really should not have allowed himself to think that any Griffyndor would fuck him…Not in this state…

"I'll give you your money and take you back. Sorry I wasted you time…"

"Don't bother," Draco said simply. "You didn't really receive anything…"

"What I did was worth it," Neville said, confident suddenly.

"Why did you make me stop?"

"I can't…it isn't fair. I just can't make myself take advantage of you."

"What if I said I wanted to."

"It would be a lie."

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	3. Chapter 3

**_Hope you enjoy it as always._**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Draco always lied to himself. He tried to pretend he didn't think he was wasting his existence being fucked into a damp, slimy wall, he acted as though he didn't hate himself and he tried to convince himself he was not bothered by Longbottom's blatant rejection.

After all, he should not have expected anything more.

He was a cheap whore, Longbottom was a functioning member of society and the best of friends with Potty, the possibility of him becoming a slave to lust and taking what was handed to him on a platter was a remote chance.

To survive this life, Draco had to block out his memories and hide away from his past. He had adopted a story, the exact replica of every broken body around him and they all believed him for who would lie about such a wrecked life.

In the beginning, he had tumbled into the Muggle world, a mass of blood soaked and dirt-laden robes, muttering incoherently and shivering uncontrollably. She had found him and took him into her home.

It was a state, half-naked women walked about dreamily, smoke trailing after them, their eyes dead under their heavy eyelids.

The woman resembled a mouse, always fidgeting and twitching but she was handy with a needle and never asked questions.

He was with her only a matter of days before he was urged to leave, the clients scared by his haunted presence. Aware of what he knew now, Draco realised they did not want anyone sane to observe their disgusting sins as they took girls so far away from reality it wasn't anything but an injustice.

This woman was wise enough to know, Draco knew little of their world and told him to find Bruce. At the time, this man was his saviour and took him into his "home".

He owned a run down hotel, in the back streets of London where the top floor was inhabited entirely by young men, all of them pale and thin but pretty.

Draco felt an odd sense of comfort surrounded by these other tortured souls, their stories of anguish and suffering ringing with him as he suddenly realised his cushioned upbringing for what it truly was.

The first time he had a client, he furiously scrubbed his skin red raw and cried for hours.

Max, another boy who lived on the top floor, sat beside him in the shower cubicle, washing his hair warmly and telling him that it became better in time.

Now it became habit, a horrible thought but it almost felt unreal most of the time.

He was fucked, paid and handed his payment to Bruce and then he would walk back to the hotel when light started to pierce the sky and would sleep in the room he shared with three others.

Max died during Draco's second winter of a drug overdose but he didn't cry. Everyone could sense the other boy's hopelessness and he was almost happy for his friend, he did not have the urge to survive that Draco could not free himself of.

Things were different after Longbottom had thrown him back to the street.

He felt differently.

The gnawing horror of being cheap and worthless flooded back and every man he had felt like another punch in the gut, he felt a distinct taste of unworthiness and wondered how he had ever managed to block it…

No longer could he simply accept this was his immediate future, it did not feel like the only reasonable way to survive and he could not understand why it had ever felt like that.

His only barricade from the terminal uselessness was Longbottom; he needed this man to escape… As pathetic as he sounded to his own ears, Draco need his Potter…He needed Longbottom to accept the role as the saviour, he couldn't find the will on his own but he appeared to be so far away…

* * *

Harry sat on Neville's couch, the exact same place as Draco had, with a sparkling grin across his face. He clutched the dark green mug in his hands and jiggled his knee as he always did when nervous or excited.

"What do you have to tell me then?" Neville said, sitting down in his armchair.

"I'm getting married," he exclaimed, his smile expanding.

"Honestly? So soon?" said Neville.

"I've known Severus for ever…it just feels like the right thing to do…" Harry said, his face becoming slightly more serious.

"I'm not doubting you, just surprised…"

"I know…How are you anyway? Any luck with the whole finding someone thing?"

Neville choked on his tea, Draco's strained face dancing before his eyes and he avoided Harry's emerald ones…

"Not really…"

"Maybe you try find a blond, you liked Malfoy at school right?"

"Do you know what happened to him after the war?" Neville asked, trying to keep the accusing tone from his voice.

"Not really, people say he's sitting in a cushy manor in France after marrying some rich woman… Severus doesn't believe it. Why?"

"I need you to promise me, you won't tell anyone this…"

"What's wrong Nev? You haven't met up with him have you?" Harry smiled.

"He's selling himself…"

"What?!"

"I saw him…"

"You didn't…"

"No but…I brought him back here…"

"Where? We need to get him…Severus is gonna go crazy Neville, he worries about him all the time…"

"No! Please…I said I would not embarrass him…"

"We are not going to tell anyone…we need to get him out of there."

Harry stood up and paced like a frustrated animal, his eyes burning with the thought of a mission.

Neville knew his friend found his current lack of occupation excruciatingly tedious but he almost resented Draco becoming his new project. For the first time in his life Neville thought Harry did not deserve the victory.

Against Neville's wishes, Severus was called and he stood in front of them, his face pulled back in anger as he shouted at Neville for not telling them sooner. Whenever he tried to defend himself Snape shot back quickly with the way he should have behaved and Neville caved in, tears hitting him.

Harry snapped at Severus and sat next to Neville on the floor.

"It's alright you know, I know you think you were doing what's best. Its just Malfoy is so stubborn, he probably didn't want to admit he needed our help."

"What the hell do you know about what he needs or wants? What do you even know about him Harry?" Neville exclaimed, pulling away from his friend's heavy arm.

"Look Nev, I know you think you are protecting him but is this what you think is best for him?"

"Longbottom, I know Draco much better than you could claim to and I know it's in his best interest to get him here…" said Severus calmly, contradicting his earlier outburst.

Harry and Severus had no idea where Draco stood so Neville had to accompany them, he chewed his nails until they bled as he marched wobbly in front of Severus and Harry, trying not to envisage the complete rage Draco is going to feel when he realised he has betrayed him…

Draco wasn't there but Neville could hear the soft hit against brick and little waves of grunts.

"Where is he Longbottom?" Snape said, his voice dripping contempt.

"Wait and be quiet, if he hears you he will run for it," whispered Neville, putting his hood up to cover the majority of his features and urging his companions to do the same.

The man soon exited the alley and Snape stalked towards him but Harry grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly, hissing fiercely in his ear.

Draco staggered out next, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and made his way to the group of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked, jokingly.

"Yes you can Draco, come with me," said Severus simply.

Even under the cover of the hood Draco recognised his godfather instantly and his face contorted viciously into anger, he wanted Longbottom to save him. Not Potty and certainly not his godfather…

Then he realised exactly how they had found him…

Longbottom had told them…

"You need to fucking leave…and tell Longbottom to stay as far away from me as possible."

"I will do no such thing, now come with me willingly or will you force me to take more violent actions?"

"Severus fucking listen to me, you a have a chance to get the life you deserve, please don't fuck it up by bringing me into it."

"Do not be stupid, you were a child and you still are."

Draco snorted and whipped around, attempting to flee down the alleyways, well aware his godfather and those with him would never be able to locate him.

But he underestimated Severus' agility, still perfect after the end of the war and his godfather had him in his arms within seconds.

He struggled futilely against the grip, more to preserve a bit of self-respect than for a genuine escape, but Severus constricted his movements further, mumbling about how he was getting too old to be chasing after Lucius' problems.

With a direct nod to Harry, he activated the portkey that was looped around his neck and took Draco to the house he shared with his younger lover.

Harry half smiled at Neville who stood blank and shivering and pulled his friend against him, taking him back to Godric's Hollow, to where Severus and Draco would be waiting.

* * *

**_Sorry this is a bit shorter than the other chapters or at least it feels like it is. I also want to apologise for the gap between chapters as I didn't really want to make you wait but I was not home all weekend. I will try and update tomorrow ^^_**

**_Review pwetty pwease ^^_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoy as always ^^**

* * *

Chapter 4

Perched in the hallway with his face staring at the glossy white door, Neville appeared to be a marble statue.

Shuffling could be heard through the walls, Draco's voice ringing with annoyance as Snape's told a more sympathetic story which seemed to irritate the other further and his shouts became louder.

Harry stood next to Neville, a familiar smile splattered across his features as he tried to ignore the conflict directly beside him.

"We should go through, you might be able to reason with him. You are the only one he has had contact with for a while," said Harry gently but there was a hint of command in his tone.

Deciding doing what he was told was a pleasant distraction from Draco's rage, he pranced straight into the mouth of the Dragon while conviently forgetting exactly who he was genuinely furious with.

Draco's face was white but his features were pulled into a sneer, his voice dripping fury as he continued to rant at his godfather, listing the risks of holding a fugitive especially when your own freedom was so disputed.

Neville almost felt sorry for Draco as he appeared to be completely unaware to the ways in which wizarding society had changed. They were still completely terrified of any possible Death Eaters and the return of Voldemort that many of them believed to be readily possible now but the ministry were better equipped to deal with any such problems. Due largely to the spread of Order members across every department and the new minister.

"Look Malfoy, you don't have to worry. It will be easy to clear your name, we just need to talk to some people," said Harry.

"Of course _you_ just need to talk to some people! Do you think I want your fucking help Potty, why the fuck didn't you try that before!" snapped Draco, standing in front of Harry's face.

"You disappeared before the final battle, what the hell could I do about that?"

Draco growled and sank his fist directly into Harry's nose, it crunched horrifically as Neville and Snape stared on, agape. Both wondering where Draco had managed to draw the strength.

Harry sighed, waved his wand over his face and the blood was cleared, his nose magically resetting itself.

This easy recovery seemed to instil a further fire in Draco and he launched himself forward, his fists colliding harshly with any part of Harry he could reach.

Snape grabbed a hold of Draco, pulling him away from his partner and hissing in his ear.

All the while, Neville stood watching as though it were a movie scene and not something playing before him.

Relieving himself from the steel grip of his godfather, Draco straightened himself but remained still. Clearly realising that attacking Harry appeared to be getting him no closer to his escape. He turned to Neville, a cruel smile littered across his sweat damp face.

"Useless as always Longbottom? So it's just not in bed where you just cannot perform?"

Mortification caused Neville to colour a deep shade of red and he whipped around, running for the front door to try and avoid the shocked and amused faces of Harry and Snape.

He charged out of the door and towards the bottom of the garden, hitting an invisible force which propelled him backwards into a flowerbed, his limp frame crushing delicate blooms.

His heart was racing as his blood ran through his body at dangerous levels. It was as though lying there was impossible but moving seemed to be a feat beyond his capabilities too, so he remained there in the soft earth while breathing harshly, trying to forget the situation he was still submerged in.

"He's irrational when he's angry Snape said. I'd say more like a whiny bitch but that's Malfoy for you. I don't understand why he thinks getting fucked by greasy old men would be better than being surrounded by your people," Harry said, sitting beside Neville on the flowerbed while clutching an ice bag to his left eye.

"I think he is trying to protect Snape. I don't think he realises how things are different," said Neville quietly, while praying he had the courage to ask his friend to just leave him alone.

"I guess but he didn't need to freak out."

"Guess that is how he reacts."

"What did he mean? Did you have sex?"

"We didn't…"

"You were going to?"

"I didn't go through with it…"

"Do you like him? Wanna fuck him, like him?"

Neville sighed and sat up, turning to face the house. It was completely silent and he wondered if Harry had retaliated and knocked Draco unconscious, he had seen Harry fistfight before and it had not been a pleasant experience for his attacker.

"Nev?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"I don't really know right now…"

* * *

With his eyes closed, Draco could only hear distant hints of Severus fumbling in the kitchen and it reminded him poignantly of the first time he had found himself at Longbottom's apartment.

The noise the tea tray whilst being placed on the table wakened Draco from his wonderings and he was confronted by the stern face of his godfather.

"You should not have been so vicious towards Harry."

"Sorry, assumed Potter was your bitch. Must be the other way around."

"Where does this anger come from exactly?"

"Why the fuck couldn't Longbottom just leave me where I was?"

"You would prefer to be there?" asked Severus in disbelief.

"I did not want to come back to a world where I could not express anything I thought to anyone as I could not trust them. I could not even trust my parents…"

"Things have changed since the end of the war, they are a lot more simple. You would not have to reassess yourself every thirty seconds."

"Perhaps but I cannot be bothered with the continued glorifying of Potter when he had Dumbledore and everyone else giving him a step by step guide at every interlude."

"They all seem like petty reasons to flee your home."

"This is not my home. I do not belong here anymore. Did anyone besides you every wonder where I was? It was not like Potter had gone missing, no that would be the end of the world…"

"Jealousy was never becoming on you Draco," sighed Snape, his hand stirring his tea leisurely.

"I'm not jealous, I just did not want to become another member of the "We Owe Harry Potter Our Lives" Club…"

"You don't, I believe you owe Longbottom."

Draco snorted, " Yes as he is the perfect example of a hero. Run away and let everyone else deal with the explosion."

"Considering you are not the typical damsel in distress I do believe Longbottom does not have to be the typical knight in shining armour."

"What are you trying to imply?"

"You are more than just a pretty face Draco, you know what I mean."

"He clearly cannot handle me," Draco stated, opting not to dance around the issue.

"Well perhaps if you left him better equipped, maybe Longbottom needs an incentive to put in the effort."

"I honestly do not get you…"

"If you made Longbottom realise his efforts would not be in vain, he might be more willing to make the effort."

"Trying to say Longbottom is lazy?"

"No at all, just that he is not confident enough in his own abilities to believe he can capture you all on his own. That would be why he was willing to pay for you services."

"He wouldn't let me do anything."

"He has a strong moral code as a lion."

Silence descended but it was comforting. The way they were before this all happened, when Draco would sit in Severus' rooms with him during the weeknends, both reading and completely enchanted by the words in front of them but still appreciative of the other's presence.

"Why can you read me so well?" he asked finally.

Severus smirked, placing his teacup to his lips.

"Simple, Draco. You are just like your father only sane."

* * *

Swallowing his pride, Draco stepped into the garden and sat cross-legged beside Neville.

Harry turned his head suddenly, glaring in Draco's direction but occasionally his gaze would lightly ghost over Neville for a second.

The Great Protector, though Draco.

"Can I talk to Longbottom for a second," Draco stated more than asked.

Potter looked tempted to say no but slipped away, his steps sharp as Draco paid close attention, waiting for them to fade.

"I'm sorry" he announced suddenly.

Part of brain celebrated while the other half was dumbfounded, Neville was unsure whether to believe what he just heard.

"You mean it?"

"Yeah but I stupidly trusted you not to run to Potter, I had a right to be angry."

"I guess…I just wanted to…stop you suffering."

"You could have saved me, you didn't need to call the Gryffindor brigade."

"I couldn't've," he muffled softly, defeat clear in his voice.

Falling back into the flowers, Draco let millions of thoughts drift in front of him. Whilst trying to avoid considering his next action, as various irrational and ridiculous ideas seemed to the forefront of his mind.

Then a weight over him made him open his eyes.

And there he was.

His eyes were intense, flecks of amber through the hazel flamed and caused a strong sense of hunger to radiate from the orbs. Lazily, his tongue skirted over his bottom lip, he was nervous but determined and continued to stare down at Draco.

Finding the desperate need in his stomach impossible to bare and unable to deny those eyes, Draco pulled those lips against his.

Perfect.

Like before but better.

Barriers had vanished.

Nothing existed but their bodies and the natural rhythm of their lips as Draco sunk further into a deep but warm ocean, Neville's body above him the only thing keeping him from drowning but he wondered if really drowning in this way would really be so bad.

Then he was gone.

Draco opened his eyes again.

Neville was flushed, his skin covered in a dusty of pink as his eyes were wide and the thudding of heart could be felt through the thin, damp layers of their clothing.

He made to move but Draco grabbed the back of his neck.

"Not this time you don't," he panted, pressing their lips together and floating back into the ocean.

* * *

**Another chapter done.**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, up on their alert lists and read.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Eventually Neville and Draco staggered back into the house, hands linked and with petals, leaves and dirt tangled in their hair.

Neither Severus nor Harry made any comment but just began the correct proceedings towards alerting the ministry to Draco's sudden reappearance in the world of magic.

In general, reinstating himself as a wizard was a long, tedious process but surprisingly easy. Especially when he realised who the minister was. Arthur Weasley was incredibly kind even after all the conflict between both their families and the dreadful way Lucius had been with their youngest child.

It took two months but Draco was allowed the luxury of twisting a wand through his fingers.

He stood in Severus' kitchen: summoning items, transfiguring them and just exercising his new wand.

This new wand meant a rainbow of various things, Draco could get a job, he could have a home, he could have functioning relationships. It symbolised being back home, being involved with people who knew him and although some of them hated him he found he did not really care. He had Severus, he had Neville…hell he even had Harry Potter.

He could even start calling himself Draco Lucius Malfoy again.

* * *

Draco remained with Severus and Harry, only for the reason he believed Neville did not really have enough space for the two of them and he did not want to impose himself. Forcing himself on family was one thing, and secretly he kind of enjoyed putting a slight damper on his godfather's romance with Potter, but he did not want to make Neville put up with him.

Although he had tried to stop himself from thinking too positively, Neville still felt a stab of rejection when Draco told him he would rather stay with Severus and it caused their tentative relationship to dissolve.

Neville found himself unable to even visit Harry, not feeling comfortable with being presented with Draco every few seconds.

Subtlety, he would often ask Harry how Draco was fairing but he would never respond with anything that would satisfy his curiosity. His friend would normally tell him to ask Draco instead.

He did know that Draco was working with Severus, doing potion orders and that he had received a small fraction of his family's fortune as an apology for being classed as an outlaw. Neville was also aware that he was being forced to go to a therapist to discuss the events that happened while he was working on the streets.

* * *

What he didn't know was how he was actually feeling.

Draco knew things were looking up, before he had seen Longbottom's blurry face in the rain he had never even dared to hope he would be able to be a functioning member of society again. Now he realised he had allowed himself to get a bit carried away, he had believed that he shared something with that face.

But by Longbottom's reluctance to even accept Draco's existence, they clearly had no connection.

Potter, irritating as always, loved to slip in whenever he visited his friend.

One particular evening Draco snapped.

"Shut up Potter! No one gives a fuck that Longbottom bought a coat today!"

Harry sighed, "I'm bored of this now. If you would stop insist being so pathetic and actually go visit him yourself you might realise why I am being so bloody annoying."

"What are you on about?"

"You and Neville. It's clear you have feelings for each other but you both have to run about before you can do anything. It's annoying. Just go sort it out!"

Harry grabbed Draco and disapparated them into Neville's apartment block.

"You know where his flat is, go and talk to him and don't come back until you have sorted this out!" exclaimed Harry, disappearing before Draco could demand that he take him back.

He considered his next plan of action, knowing there was no way of going back to the cottage without Potter or Snape taking him there as the floo would be closed. Although incredibly irritating and conceited, Potter was anything but lacking in the brain department.

Finally he accepted his fate and knocked on Longbottom's door.

He answered in those horrible red pyjama bottoms and a faded black top, his hair ruffled and sticking up wildly.

"Hello…What's wrong?"

Neville was panicking, he had no idea why Draco was here but he could sense it was not good…

"Potter deserted me here," snapped Draco, walking past Neville and straight into the apartment.

It was a state, there were piles of unclean dishes on the coffee table and clothes lay scattered about. The blanket that would normally be thrown over the couch was balled up on one of the armchairs and about six mugs were standing on top of an unstable pile of newspapers and gardening magazines. The coffee table was littered with potted plants and dark earth lay scattered between the green.

"I haven't had much time to tidy…" mumbled Neville.

"You have a wand don't you?" Draco said, sarcastically.

Inside he still delighted in the graceful swish of his wrist so he decided to demonstrate exactly what he meant by organising the room himself.

"Erm…thanks…You want tea?"

"Please Longbottom."

The use of his second name stung slightly as Neville went about making the tea, wondering why Harry had decided to punish him.

Behind him in the living room, Draco watched Longbottom potter about with an odd expression on his face. Through the bitterness that he had just left him with no explanation, he could still sense that familiar sense of comfort while being in his company.

During those ridiculous sessions he was forced to attend with that stupid therapist, the man insisted on confronting the sexual issue. Strangely enough, according to that man, Draco's seemed completely unphased by the though of having sex again. It was not that he trusted men again, he just trusted himself to make the correct choices.

Then again, he had chosen Longbottom and he had spectacularly let him down.

They sat in a stifling silence as they uneasily sipped their tea for too long before Draco finally managed to say something.

"Why didn't you come and see me?" he asked.

"I didn't wanna impose…You had other things to think about."

"You could have just said you weren't interested Longbottom, would have been so much easier."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm damaged goods, enough to put anyone off but especially someone with no backbone like you."

"That's not fair! I don't care about that."

"So why did you disappear?"

"I didn't. You were pretty clear when you said you didn't want to come here."

"I wasn't going to force you to look after me…"

"It wasn't going to be forced…"

Throughout this Draco came to two conclusions: either Longbottom was an idiot or he was. Perhaps they both were but he still would not allow himself to quite believe him yet.

"You could have tried to talk to me…" Draco said.

"I didn't wanna put myself in that situation. I know it's pathetic but I wasn't able to watch you be happy without me when I wasn't without you…"

Bravery.

Sometimes Neville did manage to live up to the house he was placed in.

The vision of complete composure, Draco delicately placed his mug on the table and skirted around it. Leaning over, he took the mug from Neville's hands and put it on the table, beside his own. Then he straddled the other man, took his face into his hands and pushed their lips together.

Neville's brain stopped working and his vision went black as the missed sensation of Draco's lips on his blocked his senses. Naturally, he pulled the other's body against his, noticing happily the unyielding firmness which was not there the last time they were so close.

They kissed until the lack of skin contact grew far too difficult to handle and reluctantly they separated.

"Bedroom?" Draco offered.

"If you want…we don't have to, I mean I don't mind just kissing. I know it must be hard for you…"

"Shut up, please." Draco sighed, impatience clear in his tone.

He grabbed Neville's hand and pulled him up, leading him into the bedroom and pushed him onto the bed.

He fumbled over his buttons, the curtain of lust rendering him a jittery mass as he undressed as hastily as he could.

Neville watched him, his eyes burning as he longed to touch the ivory skin just feet away…

"Get undressed," Draco urged Neville through his haze, not in the mood to wait.

Doing as he was ordered, Neville squashed any uncertainties as Draco smiled at him warmly.

Draco covered Neville's body with his own, his hands gliding over the warm, damp skin as his lips desperately latched onto any piece of skin available. Nothing was all that clear but Draco was determined to enjoy this, to make Neville enjoy this.

In his travels of lust filled kisses, Draco found himself centimetres away from Neville's erection. Hungrily, he licked up the shaft, sweet mewling noises from above making it through his barriers and encouraging him further. Hoping to be awarded with louder and more delightful noises Draco swallowed Neville into his mouth, his tongue lapping up and down as he sucked.

Neville was unsure if he was still alive but he did not really mind. His hands had managed to anchor themselves by grabbing onto his sheets. Futilely, he tried to control the continuous stream of moans that slipped from his lips but any form of self-discipline seemed so impossible under this attack of pleasure.

An awareness that he was seconds away from exploding, gave him the power to pull himself away from that beautiful heat.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice deep but soft.

"Close," he mumbled, pulling Draco up to him and kissing those full lips.

Neville finally allowed himself the opportunity to explore the body he had imagined so many times as he dusted the skin gently with kisses.

Soon he found himself in-between Draco's thighs, his tongue stroking the insides leisurely as he twitched above, his breathing harsh and sharp. Reaching his hand up he held it out and amazingly understanding his signal, Draco placed the tube in Neville's hands.

This was when the nervousness began to sink in. They had never gotten to this stage before, in fact Neville had never been to this stage with anyone.

He looked up, Draco just winked at him and nudged him with his knee.

Placing a pillow underneath Draco to prop him up, Neville coated his fingers thoroughly in the gel and stroked on of them over Draco's entrance. The sharp intake of breath above him, instilled Neville with more confidence and he slid it inside.

Before long, he had managed to work himself up to three fingers and Draco was frantically pushing back against him. The sight of Draco, eagerly pushing himself onto his fingers was causing Neville's chest to tighten and his mouth to dry. He had never needed anything the way he needed to be inside that heat surrounding his fingers.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly.

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed.

The earlier worry over, Neville prepared himself and pushed himself into that gut-wrenching heat.

He had never experienced something so wonderful; nothing that could kill him so easily had ever felt this breath taking. Slumping over Draco, he kissed his shoulder lazily as he allowed the other to adjust.

"Move or I will rip you to pieces," ordered Draco, his voice quivering deliciously as his fingernails dug into Neville's lower back.

Not wanting to upset, Neville began a gentle rhythm that was soon discarded for one with more speed.

All too soon, he could feel the rapid approach of his orgasm so he took Draco's erection in his hands and moved in time with his thrusts.

Then it happened.

Draco tensed, his release covering Neville's stomach but he didn't notice as that heat tightened around him, pulling his orgasm straight out of him.

Defeated, Neville rolled off Draco and buried himself in his pillow, panting.

"You alright?" asked Draco, chuckling softly as his arm looped around Neville's waist.

"I dunno…" he sighed, turning over to face Draco.

"Good?"

"You can't tell," laughed Neville, nuzzling his nose into Draco's sweat damp chest.

"It was amazing," said Draco gently.

Neville handed Draco his wand.

"What's this for?"

"Cleaning charm, I'm tired."

Draco smiled and flicked it easily, placed it on the bedside table and kissed Neville softly on the forehead.

"Stay…" mumbled Neville into Draco's skin.

"Of course. Potter will be glad to get rid of me anyway."

Neville giggled slightly but it was quickly cut out, seconds later Draco could feel the rhythmic puff of his breathing as he slept.

Affectionately, he tucked stray strands of hair behind Neville's ear and settled to sleep himself.

* * *

**I know it's sinfully fluffy so I am sorry. But anything but a happy ending would have killed me.**

**Hope you enjoyed it.**

**Review pwetty pwease.**

**And it's all done. **


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